Who's my clever little baba? Is it you?
Is it? Is it?
You're my special little baba.
Margaret, my silver-haired princess,
I am anything you want me to be.
There's a clever little baba.
And, OK, I'm not your first cat. I've come to terms with this.
There'll always be a place in your heart for Mr Whiskers,
the tabby-coloured cocksucker.
But us. I feel like a kitten again,
and I really think you could be the...
Margaret?
Margaret!
Breathe! Don't you die on me, old girl!
Let her go, Marion. It's too late.
You don't know! You're not doctor!
No.
But then it has been four months.
Seriously?
Wow.
Because that totally flew by.
So if you're finished?
It's just, you know, getting kind of hungry.
Oh, yeah. Sure. Go to town.
No, come on, man, that's disrespectful.
Well, might as well just come out with it.
I'm in love! With a human woman!
Hold up, Nelson.
Where did you get the laptop?
Tesco.
I just hid in the bushes, then snuck in
at closing time, went to the computer department.
Then took a CD, then used it to jemmy open the till,
then nicked all the Computers For Schools vouchers.
– Then set up a fake school. – Right.
I mean, it was a heck of a lot of work.
And Ofsted wasn't absolute bloody nightmare.
You are such a cockend.
But it was worth it to meet Wendy. She runs this Il Divo fansite.
She's sweet, she's clever...
Not that clever if she's, for instance, talking to a fox on the internet.
Thing is, Kali,
haven't actually mentioned the whole fox thing.
She thinks you're Toby Anstis?
She doesn't think I'm not Toby Anstis.
So what else have you used his name for?
Nothing!
God, why all the suspicion?
36 quid to Duchy Originals?!
Duchy biscuit, anyone?
Marion!
Long time no see. Let me guess.
The old rogue got tired of being tied down to one woman?
Yes.
Also she did the Christopher Reeve down the stairs and died.
– So, what'd I miss? – Nothing much.
I took Vince to a swanky wine bar.
I think we're onto a winner here, Vince.
Play it nice and cool, son, nice and cool.
And we set ourselves up in the chandelier cleaning business.
Brace yourself, Destiny.
And then, sadly, my uncle died.
Albert?
And the joy just seemed to go out of it really.
Well, I would say it's good to be home.
But that would be horrible lies.
Destiny! Time for your appointment.
Oh, God. It's Wednesday.
OMG, it's Wednesday!
Don't just stand there, you stupid bastard!
Don't you know what Wednesday means?!
Nigel Slater's Simple Suppers?
Worse. Even worse than that.
Guys, gals, doggies,
– welcome back to Strictly Dog Dancing! – You know what?
I hope you get renal failure.
Really, I do.
As always, me and Sparky
are going to kick things off with just a little demonstration.
Isn't that right, Sparky?
That is correct, Dale. Yes.
Two, three, four!
Look at these losers!
Seriously, most people have to fly a plane into a building
before they're surrounded by this many virgins.
Thank you!
Who's a good little boy then?
Is it Sparky?
Well, not one to blow my own trumpet, Dale, but yes, it is me!
Now then, guys and gals, your turn!
In fact... Gary,
– come on up here. – No!
For the love of God! No!
Hope you're ready, love.
I want to see those fleckles!
This is so cruel! Like when I was a pup and you rubbed my nose in it!
Though, in fairness, I have rubbed your nose in it.
You've got a dead wife, you've got a dead wife.
Two, three, four.
Step, step through the legs! When she does it little treat.
I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!
I hate... doggy chocolate.
I want to join your evil scheme.
Sure.
Just make a cheque out to Tom Cruise, we'll send you a fact pack.
– What? – Sorry, which evil scheme do you mean?
You know, when you get in with some old lady,
bump her off and take her money.
We could be the biggest thing since Harold Shipman and Snowdrop.
Snowdrop?
"Being of sound mind does hereby..."
Oi, Harry, how do you spell "be queath"?
So, this stupid bastard's gone AWOL, yeah?
You turn up, say it's you.
But he looks nothing like me!
– He has a slightly lazy eye. – Got it covered.
Just focus on my beak...
on my beak.
On my beak.
On my beak. On my beak.
On my beak. On my beak...
and wok!
– Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going? – To meet Wendy.
You're meeting up with an actual human woman?
– But you're a fox! – In a tie.
– She's not going to want you! – Well, you know what? I don't care!
I just want to smell her.
Just once.
So, did it work?!
Russell Howard! What in the name of Marty Feldman happened to your eye?
Why are you both wearing ties?
Clever little Destiny!
That's really cheered me up!
Yeah, funny, isn't it, fat arse?
Let's see who's laughing when I pee on Helen's grave.
So what's a nice girl like you
doing at a municipal adult education centre like this?
Who? Me? Nothing.
We're just hanging out. Playing a bit of pool.
Great footwork, Destiny, might want to work on those rondes...
Go away! How about you?
I'm in for Dog Obedience.
It was either this or a one-way ticket to Battersea.
Sorry to ask. Are you doing a bit of wee right now?
Sweetheart, do I look like a market stall holder to you?
– No. – Exactly.
That's why I do all my business indoors.
Anyway, I'd better scoot.
Oh, my God, you're itching your arse on the carpet!
Oh, yeah. Sticking it to the man.
Gary, don't look now, I think I'm in love!
You...
my Wendy!
And what a body! Right up my street,
because I am a real leg man.
Preferably four as a rule,
– but... – Sorry. Might sound weird,
but have you seen Toby Anstis?
Hold up. You're Wendy?
Great.
20-mile round trip from Crawley, Toby Anstis is a bloody fox!
Wow. Guess we've both been rumbled.
Boy, is my face red!
And I mean, us two, you know, probably shouldn't even be talking to each other!
God, no. Oh, well, we'll just have to chalk it up to experience.
No more lying. So...
I didn't lie about Il Divo.
Who's your favourite?
Gosh, they've all got such different personalities.
– I'd have to say... Carlos. – Is the correct answer!
OK, look, you've come a long way,
I'm all dolled up... how about a bite to eat?
OK.
Great. There's a Nando's just around.
Sorry, sorry, didn't think.
Hello.
For it is me, Chopsticks, your loveably cross-eyed cat!
My baby! You've come home!
Indeed I have.
Now, bring on the sweetmeats!
Sorted.
Now let's make like a clairvoyant...
and rob an old lady!
I just want to say thank you.
Thank you for an amazing day.
Pleasure. I mean, how could it be wrong for a fox
– to fall in love with a chicken? – In love?
– What I meant to say was... – Don't say anything.
Just kiss me.
– Cuddle? – Cuddle.
Seriously, Ruth, wonderful technique.
I'm off to see Freddie the magpie.
See if I can't fence this lot on.
You are a depraved bird of hate. Get out of my sight!
Don't worry, Marion. You won't be seeing me again for some time.
I bid you adieu.
Cannot believe this.
A new owner and, for once, there's no catch!
You were a naughty boy to run away, Chopsticks.
But I know why you did it.
You didn't want your little baubles cut off, did you?
But now that you're home,
we can get you neutered first thing in the morning.
OK, that's the catch, right there.
Leave me. I've got to learn.
And then he just cocked it,
right then and there, and did quite a big wee in a corridor.
Morten Harket!
I'm a wild animal, I'd never even think about doing that inside.
Yeah, because he's an outlaw and you're a square.
I'm not a square. I break the rules.
– The rules of Boggle. – Still takes guts!
I have to find a way into that obedience class.
Talking of matters of the old heart. E-T-C,
I've got a mate, right, and, get this,
he's a fox, and he's fallen in love with a bloody chicken!
And as girls, what's your, what's your take on it?
Hold on one second. A fox...
And a chicken?!
No!
– Why do you ask? – Oh, you know, no reason.
OK, so here's a funny story.
Tomorrow morning, I'm getting surgically castrated!
Nothing? No? Wow, tough crowd!
Marion, what are you on about?
It is Ruth. She wants me to have a little trim downstairs.
So I thought, "Why not?"
Why not?!
It's not like getting a haircut! They don't just grow back!
I knew that!
I didn't know that.
I say go for it.
You know, you can achieve a hell of a lot in life without any testicles.
Ladies and gentlemen, Michael Buble!
Exactly.
And so, if anyone wants to see my balls for the last time,
say now or forever...
– No. – Nah, you're good.
Nelson?
Why can't I meet your friends?
Are you... are you ashamed of me?
No! God!
I just want us to have some space, get to know each other first.
Anyway, let's Boggle!
Nelson?
Are you playing Boggle without me?
Vince!
Damn you, Boggle!
Have I learned nothing from the cautionary tale of Anne Frank?
Yahtzee!
Oops.
You have to hide. He'll kill you. Quickly!
Behind the scatter cushions!
Nelson, you *** wanker.
Yes.
Nice to see you, too.
Now, what we got here, then? Well, I can make
***, ***-sticks, *** lips.
And *** *** *** *** jockey.
So that's 37 points to you.
Hold on. I smell chicken.
And you know what I think about chickens, dontcha?
They're not from this country.
They spread dem disease.
They look the same and all wiggle their heads when they speak.
They lay loads of eggs to get free accommodation.
*** all the chickens Dem the scourge of the nation.
*** chickens.
*** 'em back where they belong.
*** chickens.
***'em all the way to Hong Kong!
You get loads and loads all living under one roof.
They're no good at flying. People know the truth.
Channel 4 make documentaries with them all the time.
But no-one cares about the plight of the vulpine.
*** chickens.
*** 'em back where they belong.
*** chickens.
***'em all the way to Hong Kong!
All together now!
*** chickens.
*** 'em back where they belong.
*** chickens.
***'em all the way to Hong Kong!
*** chickens.
*** 'em back where they belong.
*** chickens.
To actually *** a chicken would be wrong.
OK, I'm sure it wasn't intentional,
but some of that could have sounded prejudiced.
So, tell me, Nelson, what's behind those scatter cushions?
Would you believe me if I said
"feminine beauty products"?
Yeah.
Good. Anyway...
Goodness me, is it Doc Martin already?
Sod this, let's go and find some old slapper to bang.
Another six points. Well played.
Now, I am dropping the payload on the bedspread!
Obedience class, here I come!
Wow, it is like I've landed in the middle of an R Kelly sex tape.
Bit of privacy?
Because you're making it go back in!
OK!
It just feels wrong! I'll have to find another way.
You asked for this, Gary –
a prolonged attack of antisocial barking.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
Bark.
God! This is really hard!
Of course, Destiny, you do realise
that there is a very simple way to upset Gary.
I'm arresting you
in connection with the ritual sacrifice of Stephen Hendry.
Oh, yeah!
Kali, I am not framing him for the murder
of a famous snooker player.
It's like that's your answer for everything!
Come on, then, my little disco doggy. Shall we practise our salsa?
Shall we?
Get lost, Gary! Get off!
– Jesus Christ! – Oh, God...
Why didn't I think of this sooner?
Oh, no, Destiny.
No. Not, the testicles, no!
So, lads, end of the line.
You look after each other, OK?
As you can see, we offer several options.
The platinum package, with an overnight stay
and full aftercare support.
Let's go with that. Yeah, I think we'll go with that.
The gold package, which, as you can see, is slightly cheaper.
No, no, still the first one.
Or, if you are on a budget, we offer a no-frills value package.
We are not on a budget. Money no object, right, Ruth?
Well, times are tight, with the economy how it is.
What? No, no, no, no! There are green shoots of recovery.
We are officially out of recession!
I think we'll have to go with that one.
Which one? Which one?
OK, if you'd just like to settle up with my receptionist.
– Can I pay on my card? – Not for less than five pounds, no.
Less than what?!
Ruth! Don't be a tightwad! I'll chip in!
It could be my birthday present!
Joint birthday and Christmas?
Right, chap, sharp scratch.
See you later, Vince!
Quick question – at what point do you stop being a witness
and start being an accomplice?
– Wendy? What is it? – Nothing...
Have those boys been throwing eggs at our door again?
I found this.
A red feather?
It's Bruce, my husband! He's found me!
– Husband? Wendy, how many more lies? – You don't get it.
I've left before, but he always tracks me down. And when he does...
He's a wife-pecker!
The last time, he was so rough, next morning, I...
– I mislaid. – God, Wendy, don't.
It was like giving birth to an omelette.
No, seriously, I've just eaten.
And I was thinking, you could talk to him.
Confrontation really not my forte.
Excuse me, are you the owner?
It's just, um, sorry to be a bore,
you've actually parked on my...
well, my spine,
which is a bit of a ruddy ball ache, really.
So if you could just... no? OK!
Thanks, anyway!
I understand.
Did you just?.. Are you calling me a coward?
No, I make that noise naturally. It's a nervous thing.
Of course! Silly me.
Are you sure? That's starting to look deliberate.
I swear on my mother!
Fine, I'll talk to him.
Where will I find this Bruce?
The old abandoned Mississippi Fried Chicken
– on the edge of town. – Right.
We'll see who's the chicken
out of me and your husband...
who's a chicken.
You asked for this, young lady.
Yes, I did. And you brought me right here,
like the pathetic weakling you are.
Come on, Onions, you know that's naughty.
Bumbaclart. Who you calling naughty, blood? I'll stab you up, yeah?
It's like I'm in the middle of a badly scripted BBC One drama
about inner-city knife crime!
Yeah, bitches, recycle this!
Rivers! I see you're...
yeah, weeing again.
Always, baby, always.
So tell me, Afghan, what you in for?
I mauled Gary!
They were this close to putting me down!
Sweet.
In fact, mind if I?..
Free country.
Excuse me,
I'm looking for the old abandoned Mississippi Fried Chicken.
Folks say it's haunted.
Folks say you can still hear the lost souls screaming at night
as they dip 'em in the batter.
Folks say you spend the night there, sends you mad.
Mad!
And do these folks perhaps say where it is?
Folks say it burnt down a hundred year ago.
Nothing left but ash and ghosts.
Right. So that wouldn't be it over there?
Mississippi Fried Chicken?
Sorry, I could have sworn you said Nightmare Abbey.
Well, you've been a great help.
And this is why they invented Google Maps.
Here's the trainer.
OK, if owners could just stand with their dogs, please.
Her?! She can't handle us!
Doggies, sit nicely.
This is going to be absolute carnage, innit, Rivers?
Rivers?
OK, so what the hell just happened?
Good dogs!
I am a good dog.
Beg.
– I beg you, master. – Rivers?
What has she done to you?
Play dead.
Hello. I'm Richard Whiteley.
So, anyway, I'm thinking maybe that's enough dog obedience.
Gary! Please, Gary, no!
Bruce?
Look, mate, I'm sure we can settle this amicably.
The last thing either of us want
is a costly trip through the county courts.
Bruce?
Good Charlotte!
What are you doing, you maniac?!
Think of it as karmic payback
for all the pain your kind has inflicted upon mine.
People know where I am, you know. Like Wendy!
Think you'll find I know dear Wendy rather better than you do.
Hi, Nelson!
Wendy! That disguise!
– NVQ in theatrical make-up. – Bloody well done, girl!
They don't just hand those things out for... you lying bitch!
I'm sure I am suffering slightly from empty-nest syndrome.
But I'm looking on the bright side.
Ruth?
This one will run and run!
Let's get you some more cream, Chopsticks.
This is good idea.
Hey, you know, it's no' so bad.
I may not have my guys.
At least I have my Ruth.
I guess you know who I am.
Chopsticks!
It was all a lie?
You? Me?
Il Divo?
Can't stand them.
I mean, what are they? Are they opera? Are they pop?
Stop it! Just stop it!
You'll disturb your neighbors.
– Afternoon. – Vince?
Small world?
And not a word about this to Janice, OK?
She fooled you, too?
Always had a thing about poultry.
The dirtiest thing you can do, innit, *** a chicken.
– Not if you love each other, actually. – Silence!
Prepare to burn in hell!
Now, I reckon you'll want about 15 minutes at 800 watts...
Oh, God!
Where's Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall when you actually need him?
I heard you took a bullet for me.
Well, now I'm back.
And you're on my cushion.
You cannot just waltz in here.
For Ruth, I will fight to the bloody end!
OK.
Yeah, I think I just split my stitches.
You know, at this setting, we're going to be incredibly rubbery.
My bloody head's cooking.
Do something!
I'm free!
How convenient.
– Kill the chicken! – With what?
– OK, Chicken. – Watch it!
Time you came home to roost.
Now cut her bloody throat!
– Look, do you just want to carve? – Get on with it!
Great It's Christmas '07 all over again.
Don't do this!
– I love you! – Really?
Because I love you too, and...
I don't think things are working out between us, Wendy!
I'm just not ready for this sort of commitment! It's not you...
it's, me!
And I was all, like,
"It'll take more than some plastic clicker
to tame this bitch, believe..."
OK, Agent Cue Ball, you know what to do.
Kill Stephen Hendry... kill Stephen Hendry...
Check it!
Full instructions for making a dirty bomb.
So that's Father's Day sorted.
OK, you do realise they can track you down for using those sites?
Yeah, I know they can.
Armed police! Get down on the floor now!
– Don't move! – Cuff him!
Anyway, No Nuts, how's life without any balls?
Lonely.
At least I got a souvenir.
– Say hello to my little friends. – Hang on – three?
Yeah. Turns out I had massive testicular tumour,
so in a way, having my balls cut off saved my life.
– Right. So it was worth it, then? – No!
Nels! What the frig?
Let's just say I learned an important lesson.
Never go out with someone from a different species
or genetic background to yourself.
It never works.
Well, we had to break up. All got pretty messy,
by which I mean I cut her head off with a plastic knife.
According to Wikipedia,
chickens can live for over a year, even with no head.
No!
You can't trust Wiki. You see, it's not properly moderated.